"Rosemary Halmark!" My name rings out across the square. Of course, it was just my luck to get picked as a tribute. "Come on, dearie, up to the stage." The crowd parts around me, and a gentle hand pushes me forward. I take a step. And then another step. Before I have time to register what I am doing, I am at the stage. Claudia Flyjones, district eleven's escort beams at me. "So, you are fourteen?" I nod numbly. "Good, good. Now, time for the boys." She reaches in, her hand swirling around, looking for the right piece of paper. It grabs one, the slip held between two glittery fingernails. She opens it. It feels like an eternity, waiting to find out who I might have to battle to the death with. "Thyme Halmark." I watch as the colour drains from my brother's face. He sets his features into a unreadable expression, and pushes through the crowd. He soon stands next to me. "Are you two twins?" Claudia asks. "Yes. We are." The words don't come from my mouth. I doubt I could say anything if I tried. We exchange pleasantries, and soon I am in the town hall or whatever it's called. I can't remember. I sit on the couch, running my fingers through the velvety material. I wonder who will visit me first. As if to answer my silent question, the door creaks open, and a boy of about ten slips in, a basket in his hand. My brother. "Duke misses you already." He cracks open the lid of the basket, revealing a brown cat nursing five kittens. I walk over to him (my brother, not the cat), my arms enclosing around his small body. Even at age ten, I still stand high above him. When I let go, I see his eyes are shining with tears. "Try. Please try." A peacekeeper comes in, with a last stroke of the cat, my brother is gone. I will probably never see him again. My next visitor is my mother. We spend the whole time hugging, with her whispering sweet nothings into my hair. The peacekeepers return, and before she leaves, she removes her wedding ring, and tosses it across the room. I catch it, slipping it on my finger. I have a token. The last visitors aare a few of my friends from school. Two, to be precise. Alex and Blossome. We sit in a circle, crosslegged on the floor. Blossome speaks first. "It's weird, knowing someone who is going into the Hunger Games." "Yeah. When you come back, make sure you don't have a Capitol accent," Alex grins. I laugh. In my moment of peril, at least I can count on my friends. But they aren't going to be in the arena, I remind to myself, as the peacekeepers come in one last time. The rest is a blur. Cameras snapping, cars rumbling, I soon stand inside the train. Thyme looks at me and smiles though I can tell his heart isn't in it. HELLO! I am bringing you a new Hunger Games story. Please R&R. I don't own the Hunger Games or any of its characters, but all my OC's are mine.
